


beaten down

by bettersounds (thebadguyswin)



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Gen, all my fics are the same, depressing shit tw, nothing too explicit but if u get uncomfortable exit outta here and read some happy fluff, one of them is sad, the other one makes them feel better
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-28
Updated: 2016-11-28
Packaged: 2018-09-02 17:44:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8676826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebadguyswin/pseuds/bettersounds
Summary: Josh sees the boy in the skeleton hoodie almost every night.
   Based on Goner 2012 version.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I watched the 2012 version of Goner and? this happened? idk how original it is but it's here x
> 
> Russian translation by misiscake! (thank you<3) https://ficbook.net/readfic/4986058/12867755

Josh sees the boy in the skeleton hoodie almost every night.

He doesn’t know which house on his street he lives in. He doesn’t even know if he lives in a house on his street. But he’s there, every night.

Tonight, the boy is sitting on the curb. He’s got an accordion in his hands and he’s gently pressing the sides in and out. The sound coming out of it is quiet, and anyone not looking out of their window might just mistake it for the wind or a cat or a car.

Josh is looking out of his bedroom window, so he knows where the sound is coming from.

The boy’s hood looks like a skull when it’s zipped up over his face. It’s always zipped up. Josh doesn’t know what the boy looks like.

This is a peaceful night for the boy.

Josh has seen the boy walk up and down the street for hours, passing under street lamps and scuffing his shoes along the pavement.

Josh has seen the boy lie in the middle of the road for hours. The street is quiet, and there are never cars passing through at three o’clock in the morning. Josh wants to go out and check on the boy on those nights, but Josh is scared.

Josh has never seen the boy with an accordion before. That’s new. He keeps watching as the boy keeps playing long, low notes.

Josh listens carefully. He swears he can hear- yes he can. Words. Low words, almost hummed. Carried on the breeze up to Josh’s window. Josh cracks his window open, the wind streaming through the ruffle his brown curls.

“Somebody… catch my… breath…”

Josh listens. He can’t hear every word, but the melody is repeated. The words are repeated. Josh wants to hear them so badly.

But he can’t, not yet. Not yet.

* * *

Josh wonders about the boy. Josh worries about the boy.

He still sees him, almost every night. Josh realises he mutters to himself most nights, but just too softly for him to hear. But he can tell, whenever he jerks his head or waves his hands, he’s muttering.

Josh doesn’t see the boy have as peaceful a night as that night with the accordion. He storms down the street more often now. Pacing back and forth, and Josh doesn’t know why. He’s still scared.

Josh wonders if the boy will stop as the weather gets colder.

He doesn’t. He keeps appearing.

Josh doesn’t know how he manages to sneak out every night. He doesn’t know if anyone else sees the boy, and they all just do what he does and watches from a window and does nothing. Josh doesn’t know who else would be awake at this time. He doesn’t know if any other insomniacs live on his street. Maybe the boy has insomnia too.

* * *

If the first night the boy had the accordion was the boy’s most peaceful night, the second night it appears is definitely the boy’s most restless night.

The snow is thick and heavy and covers everything in a blanket of shining white. The road and sidewalk is undisturbed, save for the footprints of the boy.

He’s still wearing that skeleton hoodie. Josh can see he is cold from his bedroom window. He can see his red hands and his shaking shoulders.

The boy is holding his accordion, making those soft, low sounds at first. Then his movements become sharper. The noises become harsher. Josh doesn’t like them.

Then he’s slumped to his knees in the snow and the accordion is thrown onto the road and lets out a whine as it hits the ground.

The boy is shuddering, his head in his hands, and he’s… crying?

Josh is scared, but he’s not as scared as the boy. He’s pulling on his boots and heavy coat over his pyjamas and grabbing a blanket. He’s tiptoeing down the stairs as fast as he can without making a noise that could wake up his parents or siblings. He’s throwing open his front door and running across the street to where the boy in the skeleton hoodie is crouched and punching the ground with frozen fists.

“Don’t let… let me be gone…” He’s whimpering, his knuckles bruised and scraped and dripping red onto the white snow.

Josh is draping the blanket over his thin shoulders and sitting beside him on the cold ground and pulling the boy onto his lap. The boy is sobbing against his chest gripping Josh’s coat.

“You’re not gone. You’re here. With me.” Josh is whispering. He doesn’t know what that means. He just knows this boy needs it.

The boy is shaking his head and still gripping Josh’s clothes.

“Come on. Come inside. You’re gonna die out here.”

“Good.” The boy sniffs.

Josh doesn’t know what to say, so he doesn’t say anything. He pulls the boy to his feet and practically drags him into his house.

“Basement.” Josh whispers, and hooks the boy’s arm over his shoulder to help him down the stairs.

The boy’s hood is still zipped over his face, but Josh can see bloodshot brown eyes and long eyelashes through the mesh over the eye holes.

He sets the boy down on the sofa in the basement. It’s set up to be a den if he or his siblings have friends over to visit or stay the night, so Josh has access to a lot of blankets and pillows and spare pyjamas.

Josh can’t help but notice the boy’s knuckles, though. He pulls off his coat and gets a first aid kit from the cupboard and sits down next to the boy.

“I’m gonna clean you up, okay?” He gets out gauze and antiseptic wipes and medical tape.

The boy nods.

Josh takes the boy’s hands in his own and wipes his knuckles with the wipe, cleaning away dried blood and grit. The boy hisses at the sensation.

“Sorry. Might sting. I’m Josh, by the way.”

The boy looks up from his knuckles to make eye contact. He looks scared.

“Tyler.”

“You wanna take your hood down, Tyler?” Josh feels brave for asking.

Tyler looks more scared.

“You can keep it up if you want just… Your clothes are wet. Was gonna give you something to change into anyway.”

Tyler swallows. He slips his hands out of Josh’s and slowly unzips and pulls down the hood. “Better?” He whispers.

Josh nods. “Yeah.” Tyler’s eyes are brown, and his eyelashes are long, but his cheeks are soft and pink and his hair is chestnut and fluffy. “Better.” Josh smiles.

He wraps Tyler’s knuckles in gauze and tapes it up. They’re only scraped, but Tyler looks like the kind who’d pick at scabs and make them worse.

Josh picks out some sweat pants and a t-shirt and passes them to Tyler.

“Change.” He says firmly. “I’ll be back in three minutes with cocoa.” Josh goes upstairs to the kitchen and fixes two cups of hot chocolate. He hopes Tyler isn’t allergic to anything, but he didn’t protest when Josh offered. It’s probably okay.

When Josh returns to the basement, Tyler is sitting cross-legged on the sofa in the dry clothes and staring at nothing. Josh sets a mugs on the coffee table in front of the sofa.

Tyler is still shaking slightly. Josh drapes a blanket around his shoulders and hands him a mug. “Drink. It’ll help with the cold.”

Tyler looks up at Josh with sad, dark eyes, and Josh’s stomach churns. Josh sits beside Tyler, draping another blanket around himself and sipping his own cocoa.

“Shouldn’t you be asleep?” Tyler whispers.

“I don’t.”

“Sleep?”

“No.”

“Oh.”

Josh frowns. “Neither do you.”

“How did you know?”

Josh swallows. “I’ve seen you most nights for the past eight months.”

“Oh. I thought I could feel someone watching. Guess I thought it was just in my head. Or…” Tyler stops.

“Or what?”

He shakes his head. “Never mind.”

“You can tell me.”

“I thought it might be God.” Tyler says simply.

“Oh. Maybe He is.”

“Maybe.”

“You were singing.” Josh whispers. “You always sing.”

Tyler laughs but doesn’t smile. “If you can call it that.”

“What were you singing?”

“My thoughts.” Tyler drags his fingers around the rim of his cup.

Josh pulls his knees up to his chest. “Does it help?”

“Sometimes.” Tyler chews his fingernails and Josh stares at his toes.

“Why do you sing outside in the middle of the night in a hoodie that covers your face?”

Tyler shrugs. “Seems as good a time and place as any. The same number of people will listen to me.”

“I’m pretty sure you’d get a bigger audience during the day at least.”

“They’d still not listen.” Tyler rubs his eye. “They hear, but they don’t listen.”

“I listen.” Josh shuffles closer. “You’re not… You’re not gone, Tyler.”

Tyler snorts. “How do you know?”

“You’re still here.” Josh states. “If you were gone, you wouldn’t be.”

“I want to be gone.”

“Do you?”

Tyler hesitates. “I want to be. But I can’t. I can’t leave. Too many people… Too many people need me.”

Josh chews his lip and forces the lump back down his throat. “I… I don’t know what… to say…”

“Don’t say anything. You’re a stranger. You’re not meant to care I want to step out in front of every car that passes me. Or jump out of every window higher than the third storey. Don’t.”

“I care.” Josh frowns.

“No you don’t.”

“I do.” Josh insists. “I don’t know you at all, but I care. I’ve spent every night for the past eight months wishing I could go out and speak to you but… I can’t.”

“You did tonight.”

“I thought you were gonna hurt yourself.”

Tyler smiles, just a small smile, and holds up his bandaged knuckles. “Kinda did.”

“I shoulda stopped that.”

Tyler shakes his head. “Couldn’t. Doesn’t matter.”

Josh sips his drink.

“I’m still cold.” Tyler says suddenly. “Is it weird if I stay here tonight?”

Josh shrugs. “If it makes you feel better.”

Tyler nods. “Stay here with me.” He puts his drink down and curls up on the sofa, head slumped against the back rest and feet tucked underneath him.

Josh nods and mirrors his position. Their foreheads are an inch apart. “I don’t sleep.”

“Close your eyes, Josh. Listen to my breathing.”

Josh closes his eyes. Tyler’s breathing is slow and deep, and Josh copies it. He’s usually scared of what the night can bring, and his thoughts don’t let his brain switch off. Tonight, though, with the steady in and out of Tyler’s breath, Josh relaxes and his brain calms down.

Josh sleeps.

* * *

Josh wakes up to an empty sofa. He’d swear he dreamt the whole thing, but the open first aid kit and two cups half filled with now cold cocoa tell him otherwise.

He’s only slept for two hours, but it’s more than he’s managed at once in six years.

The blankets and spare clothes are folded neatly on the table, and Josh puts them away.

Josh cleans away the bandages and antiseptic wipes, and takes the cups upstairs and washes them.

And Josh goes about his day as normal. He doesn’t tell his family about the boy in the skeleton hoodie he sees every night.

* * *

Except, Josh doesn’t see him that night. Or the night after.

Josh is worried. Josh is scared. Josh is… terrified.

 _Don’t let him be gone_.

A week goes by. Josh doesn’t see the boy in the skeleton hoodie. Josh’s nights are worse for it.

Then, a week to the day after Josh helps the boy in the skeleton hoodie, there is a knock on his front door. He and his family are sat at the dinner table, just finishing a meal of meatloaf and mashed potatoes and peas.

“I’ll get it.” Jordan laughs and slides off his chair to answer the door.

“Hello?” Josh hears him say. “Yes.” Jordan giggles. “He’s my brother. I’ll get him.”

Jordan runs back into the kitchen, laughing.

“For me?” Josh guesses.

Jordan nods. “S’a boy saying he wants to talk. He’s got a funny hoodie.”

Josh stands up, a little shaky. “Can I be excused?”

His mother nods. “Of course.”

Josh walks to the front door. Tyler is standing there, skeleton hoodie intact and knuckles mostly healed.

“Hey.” Tyler murmurs.

“Hey.” Josh replied. “You forgot something?”

Tyler shakes his head, and beckons Josh to come outside.

Josh steps out and shuts the front door and sits on the doorstep. Tyler sits beside him.

“Thanks.” Tyler mumbles.

Josh shrugs. “Anytime.”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

Tyler chews his already chapped lips. “Needing your help. Sneaking out on you. Not talking to you for a week.”

"I'm a stranger. I didn't expect you to come back." Josh tries to hide the relief in his face. “Just glad to see you’re okay.”

Tyler nods. “I hope I am. One day.”

“You can be. You will be.”

“I hope so.” Tyler glances sideways at Josh. “You slept.”

“Huh?” Josh thinks back to a week ago. “Yeah. I guess I did.”

“How long’s it been?”

“Six years.” Josh picks at his fingernails.

Tyler nods again. “So it’s possible.”

“What is?”

Tyler smirks, a small smirk. “To do it. Get better.”

“Not be a goner?” Josh offers.

Tyler smiles, a genuine smile. “Yeah.”

“Do you think we can do it?” Josh breathes.

Tyler pauses. He furrows his brow. “Yes. I think we can.”

Josh nods. He can feel a lump in his throat and his eyes are prickling.

Tyler sniffs. “I don’t want to be gone.”

“You’re not.” Josh shuffles closer to Tyler. “You’re not gone.”

Tyler rests his head against Josh’s shoulder. “Don’t let me be.”

Josh puts his arm around Tyler’s shoulder. “I got you. We got this. We can do this.”

Tyler nods. “We can do this.” Tyler smiles. “Yeah. And one day, one day we’ll be able to say ‘we did it.’”

Josh smiles. “Yeah. ‘We did it.’” He grins. “I like the sound of that.”

**Author's Note:**

> im like halfway through another chapter for heading south i coulda finished but im the worst so x


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